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Poems 



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Poems 




PRIVATELY PRINTED 

CEDAR RAPIDS IOWA 

OCTOBER 1921 






Copyright 1921 



DC! -6 I92i 



THE TORCH PRESS 

CEDAR RAPIDB 

IOWA 



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FOREWORD 

On this anniversary of my mother's natal day, it has 
been my earnest desire to give to you, dear father and 
dear mother, some permanent expression of my love 
and gratitude. What can be more a part of me than 
my thoughts? These simple verses, then, expressive 
of many moods and fancies of my passing years, I 
have gathered in this little book for you 

Cedar Rapids Iowa 
October the sixth 1921 



THE DEAREST SHIP 

There is a ship which ever sails 
A sea of storm and strife, 
Whose cargo is a family fair 
Of precious human life. 

There is a captain on this ship 
And father is his name, 
'Tis by his ever watchful care 
That ship is brought to fame. 

There is a helmsman guiding it 
Away from worldly lure ; 
'Tis mother watching day and night 
To keep the cargo pure. 

So on without a thought of self 
They labor through life's sea. 
And suffer all, to land the ship 
Safe in eternity. 



TO MY MOTHER'S MUSIC 

Out of the dim sweet years of long ago, 

You incarnate white ghosts that romp and dance 

Like living things, so swift your fingers fly 

That in but one small hour each has its chance, 

To tell the story of its romance passed. 

Its culmination, joy, or grief at last. 

The firmness of your touch brings out the soul 
Of each strange speaker ; one need make no plea 
For repetition, but straight to the goal 
Of vibrant echoing heartstrings, filled with glee 
Or sorrow greater than the tongue could tell, 
You reach ; for you have told their story well. 

To "Annie Laurie," ''Threads of Gold," have I 

Listened, or to pathos mighty storming 

Wept sadly; joy soon usurped a sigh 

At cheery ' ' Eggs for Breakfast in the Morning. ' * 

Rare genius in your fingers holds full swing ; 

To all who listen joy complete you bring. 



I MUST BE WORTHY 

Out of the realms of blackest night 
You ushered me into the light; 
On Calvary's cross you paved the way 
That gave to me an earthly day. 

Death opened wide its darkened vale, 
You needed not, an infant wail 
Recalled again your love of life, 
A mother now, more than a wife. 

One day your eyes you opened wide 
And there I lay your breast beside ; 
You cuddled me and kissed a curl 
And smiled because I was a girl. 

Oh, mother mine, have I been true 

To this huge debt I owe to you? 

The years have passed, each one helps mould 

My womanhood, each makes you old. 

The time will come no more you'll be. 
Please, mother mine, will you guide me 
From there, through sin's disguise of mirth? 
I must be worthy of my birth ! 

That agony of greatest pain 

Shall not have been endured in vain ; 

I must be worthy of the way 

You smiled at me on that first day. 



INDIAN VILLAGES 

Neat as any city square, 
Nestling in the footiiills bare, 
Sprinkled well o'er desert sand 
Quaint adobe houses stand. 

Camouflaged do they appear 
Nature's scenery, tho' a near 
View will to the eye disclose, 
Indians dressed in gayest clothes. 

Squaws baked brown by desert suns, 
Mothering well their little ones, 
That their proud race ever may 
Rule their chosen desert way. 

Weave they rugs with skill untold ; 
Deftly can their fingers mould 
Clay pots bright, where in the mart 
They captivate the traveler's heart. 

Dusky sons with plows made crude 
Till the soil for daily food, 
Making desert scenery gleam 
Here and there with bits of green. 

Destiny, how different can 
You place in the heart of man 
Happiness, to the desert send 
Your souls for the rainbow's end. 



10 



Or mingling in the city mart 
Some may tind the blue bird 's heart 
Phantom chasing one and all, 
Waiting for death's final call. 



11 



VIEWING THE GRAND CANYON 

(Of Arizona) 

Dare one profane the silence 
Or desecrate the air 
By word or exclamation? 
Ah no, God's work is there 
Revealed in all its grandeur, 
And yet no man can pay 
Homage to its beauty 
In any verbal way. 

The silent adoration 
Of heart, and mind, and soul 
Its vastness is demanding, 
We're nearer to the goal 
Of perfect human worship 
When our lips move in prayer 
To Him who gave us eyes to see 
Beauty beyond compare. 



12 



, BEAE VALLEY 

Where the mountains in their glory rise to heights 

sublime and grand, 
And the desert's peaceful beauty sooths the mind and 

calms the hand, 
Where a stream's unrest is conquered in a lake calm 

and serene; 
That's the place for which I'm longing — there is 

where I live my dream! 

Days filled with joy big and vital, dreamy nights 

beneath the moon, 
Sunset valley of perfection, now I know I left too 

soon. 
Misty shades of twilight's orchid I may find in lands 

afar. 
But there's only one Bear Valley where strong hearts 

the truest are. 



13 



THE GATE OF DREA:MS 

Paddling against current force, 
Every muscle taut in test, 
Seeing Eden 's gate upstream, 
Never stopping for a rest. 

Tho' the sun gave heat intense 
And the nights were dark and cold 
Firmly paddled on the man 
To the gate of dreams untold. 

When he saw its spires in view. 
Bowing down he said a prayer 
For the light of faith which shed 
Courage round his journey there. 

As he stood before the gate, 
Modestly his quest implored, 
Seeing not above his head 
Winged angel virtues soared. 

Soon the portals opened far, 
There awaited him his bride. 
In the land of Dreams Come True 
Walk they ever side by side. 



14 



A PERFECT LOVE SHIP 

There is a ship I know of in a harbor where the tide 
Is made up all of happiness, it's waiting for love's 

bride 
To set the date that it may fill its sails with heart's 

content, 
And launch full swing while conquering each worldly 

element. 

Dan Cupid is the captain, somehow he can always send 
The arrow of life's compass right to the rainbow's end. 
A blue bird is the pilot, and he's well instructed to, 
Always steer through discontent to waters of bright 
hue. 

The body of this craft is made of silence understood, 
And inlaid with sweet patience carved in virtue's 

finest wood ; 
A life boat of unselfishness and courage, in mid-air 
Hangs aloft by charity and other virtues fair. 

The cost of transportation is the toil of honest work, 
Of duty before pleasure, all things one must not shirk. 
It's route is planned through love of God, Faith is the 

shining star 
Which guides it to the finer things in life that really 

are. 

The passengers it waits for are, dear heart, just you 

and me. 
Shall we not choose, love, such a craft when we sail 

o'er life's sea? 

15 



THE LOVES OF A LILY 

Two lovers wooed a lily fair 
That rested on the water's breast, 
One with the primal strength of man, 
The other gently her caressed. 

The first was gusty wind of day, 
His rival, balmy breeze of night ; 
One loved the sweetness of her lips, 
The other praised her brow so white. 

Day thrilled the lily — yet ere passed 
She wearied of his love so strong ; 
And welcomed then night 's soft caress, 
His lullaby of sweetest song. 

Now just before the sunrise came 
He kissed her eyes tho ' closed with sleep, 
But never dared to touch her lips. 
Until she gave them him to keep. 

Renewed with love, the wind of day 
Again with strength her petals tore ; 
Aroused she opened wide her eyes 
Which seemed to say, ' ' Thee I adore. ' ' 

For weeks of days and nights she played, 
But soon the time she must decide 
Approached. Which one did she love best ? 
To which one's love would she be bride? 



16 



'Twas thus she pondered, — "Day's caress 
Doth thrill me, yet I am not strong ; 
Such love is for the willow tree. 
My petals frail would not last long. 

"The night wind is a gentle mate 
And yet my love I 'd want to see ; 
My eyes are closed before he comes, 
For they with nature's day agree." 

But when the hour came 'round in truth, 
She firmly shook her head at day 
Who kissed and kissed her pure white lips, 
And with the sunset flew away. 

Then modestly she beckoned night 
Who pressed her closely to his heart. 
Him seeing not, she lay content 
Within his arms, fain ne 'er to part. 



17 



A BUSY CORNER 

Faces lined with business scheming, 
Faces weary, faces beaming, 
Faces old and faces young, 
These pass on and then more come. 

Bonnets of a dingy hue, 
Paris bonnets gay or blue, 
Overalls and suits of tweed 
Meet and pass — each to his need. 

Sweating, common, motley clay 
Blindly pushing on your way, 
"What of life are you now seeking. 
For your work what are you reaping ? 

Food and raiment through each sun 
For wife, yourself, and little one, 
"With the moon, a roof o'er head. 
Satisfied you seek your bed. 

Low born, high born, back to earth. 
You'll return, such little worth 
Have you been that not a star 
Will notice that no more you are. 

Hurried, pushing, pulsing throng. 
Ever treading feet along 
Life's busy comers, death may sever 
Life : but crowds continue ever. 



18 



Faces lined with business scheming, 
Faces weary, faces beaming, 
Faces old and faces young, 
These pass on ; and then more come. 



19 



NIGHT'S VIGIL WITH THE STREET 

Dark as a cave by only candle light, 
As still as death, our street at night 
So lies; above the stars do lightly gleam 
For naught. Man sleeps within his dream. 

Houses, masked strangers which the dark surrounds, 
Stem faces, keeping that life which abounds 
Within their being, secret from night's eyes, 
In day 's dawn only easting off disguise. 

All signs of motion, sounds of busy feet 
Have ceased a moment, and the wide street 
Stretches, so very tired of the day 
It rests, just like a weary child from play. 

Occasionally a twig drops from the tree 
Breaking solitude's silence, as a plea 
For night's attention ; daytime scorns the sounds 
Of lesser noises which the mid-night crowns. 

Dim muffled panting breaths, while harsh and shrill 
A whistle shrieks, for, far on yonder hill 
An iron king intrudes upon the stage. 
Unlisted on night's program hoar with age. 

Our quiet street seems lonely ; but the glow 
Of daytime's vibrance stunts ; the soul can grow 
Far more perfect when shadows animate 
The ideal, than when drifting with day's fate. 



20 



Soon dawn shall come and pass, and sunrise red 
With day's first brilliance shall find me in my bed 
At peace with all. Thus nature's gift is sweet 
To those who join night's vigil of the street. 



21 



NOT UNTIL 

Not until the fire is dead, 
Not until our book is read, 
Not until we banish light, 
Find we fellowship in night. 

Not until from man we're far 
Do we seek a lonely star 
And confide our heart's unrest, 
Knowing of all friends it's best. 

Not until each earthly tune 
Is sleeping, do we find the moon, 
Tell our secrets one by one 
Tho' we find it answers none. 

Not until the cock 's shrill cry 
Frightens moonlight from the sky, 
Does the sun 's big ball of red, 
Send the stars and us to bed. 



22 



STARS 

Stars, stars, stars, eternal, infinite, and wise 

Do you not sometimes grow weary listening to man's 

sighs. 
Epicurean tastes e'en tho' disguised? 
Of life's pageant you surely must tire 
As you watch each new generation play and then 

expire ! 

Stars, stars, stars, how many more years will you shine, 
Flaunting your mystery into man 's face, making him 

worship your shrine ? 
A mere man, a mortal, with hrains of an ape. 
You mock him, you tease him, naught revealing, is 

death the only escape? 

Stars, stars, stars, you twinkle, yet your hearts are 

cold, 
I 'm hut an infant upon this earth while you are long 

ages old ! 



23 



NATURE 'S LAW 

Nothing is old and nothing is new ; 
Things are just strange to me and to you ; 
Life plays her game in just the same way, 
As she has planned since earth 's first day. 

Birth, love, and death, bright joy, and sorrow, 
To-day are, were, and shall be to-morrow. 
No thought is new, each movement of man 
Is but a part of Dame Nature's plan. 

Man thinks he's an Ego standing alone, 

But the deeds that he does, places which he may roam, 

Were known long ago. For neither in you 

Or others the birth of thought's entrance knew. 

All nature 's incarnate, life is but her tool 
And used for her whim as king, or as fool, 
For she stands erect, we are but fallen man. 
Therefore it is right and just that she can. 

She ever protects her strength and her grace. 

By hiding her progeny back of love's face; 

For nothing is old and nothing is new ; 

We're a part of her law and can't help but be true. 



24 



YOUTH VERSUS AGE 

Youth eternal, ever youthful, 
Not you but Age grows old and still, 
Your strength superb, incarnate beauty 
Old Age alone must serve and will. 

Bright Youth insatiable in hey-day 
Forcing yourself on life's grim stage, 
Winning, since Nemesis are you, 
Laurels, as you climb o 'er Age. 

Sweet Youth, unquenchable you throb 
And pulse with great ambitions high, 
Weak Age is going down before you. 
While you boast strength e'en to the sky. 

Yet, subtle Youth, while Age you're forcing 
Downward, you are falling too; 
For pressing on you are mere youngsters. 
Youth irresistible and new. 

New babies ever growing lusty, 
Dragging you down to Age's line. 
Soon they succumb, new babies follow. 
And more until the end of time. 

Youth, silken skin and supple muscle. 
No task too great, a smile thy guise, 
"Virgin stamina ever glorious. 
Old Age must sink to let you rise. 



25 



ULTIMA THULE 

All earthly gifts that wealth can sift 
Are ashes, if another gift 
Is craved ; for who can buy or hire 
Attainment of his heart's desire. 



26 



THE VIEW OF VIEWERS 

"Things never change," said a baby star 
A billion years old or two, 
"I'm sick of this life, my nerves are a wreck, 
I say, grandsire, how about you?" 

"How foolish such chatter," the other replied, 
' ' How many times have I told you 
Before we again enciele His crown 
The world of its playing must rue. ' ' 

"Such queer silly mortals," the wee one exclaimed, 

* ' All they do is; live, love, and die, 

Then rot in the ground while more race on 

And we weary watch and sigh." 

"God's ways are not ours to comment upon," 
The king of stars then sternly said, 
"We all must give the best light we have 
Until the whole race is dead. 

"So stifle impatience right away. 

The pantomime will not efface. 

Until God has filled with the souls of men 

Each cursed fallen angel's place." 



27 



COMPENSATION 

No den is made the rogue to hold 
From compensation stem and bold, 
Through time and space she seeks; her law 
Makes manhood pay to the last straw. 

She is a sacred, happy muse; 

But, if her gifts we do abuse. 

She'll shake the dice which always win 

For her the punishment of sin. 

Take what you wish, but don't forget 
To pay each day your honest debt. 
There's nothing baser 'neath the sun 
Than to receive all and then give none. 

Give ever; for e'en too much of good 
Corrupts itself like rotting wood, 
Commission may be evil sin ; 
But yet omission is its twin. 

For Ego can but Ego cheat. 
And man can suffer no defeat 
Except from his own hands, the elf 
Of sinning lies within one's self. 

So let revenge for others wait, 
Great Nature sure will compensate, 
Forever to her law she's true. 
She gives and takes from me and you. 



28 



And yet in all firm justice sway 
Brings back what man threw on life's way 
Unchanged. We choose the kind of seeds 
And harvest none but our own deeds. 



29 



THE CRY OF AN AGED ATHEIST 

I can not stand alone, 
Life's path is rough and I am weak, 
And yet I know not where to turn. 
In whom to trust, for what to seek. 

While gazing at the stars I see 

Reflected my identity, 

I feel a power I cannot name 

Rules, knowing how I play life 's game — 

Of these things only am I sure ; 

My other thoughts are immature. 

My youth was fearless, but an hour 

It lasted, for the highest power 

Am I still searching; my heart is cold 

With apprehension, and my old 

Cry pierces winds both East and West — 

They, answering, echo my request. 

I can not stand alone. 
Life's path is rough and I am weak, 
And yet I know not where to turn 
In whom to trust, for what to seek. 



30 



IT IS NOT GIVEN ALL 

If the leading parts in life are us denied, 
And we must sit while genius doth soliloquize, 
Let us rest well and drink our dregs with zest, 
Repress our envy of another's prize. 

It is not given all to make a mark 

Upon the age we live in, but if you 

Have bettered by your art faint hearts obscure, 

Success is yours, tho' it be known to few. 

Some saints are known, but many die unknown ; 
More men rate valor's emblem than receive; 
But there is One who reads the record true. 
Just One who man's opinion can't deceive. 



31 



ARE YOU 

Are you living up the confidence 
That someone has placed in you ? 
Are you pulling hard in every sense 
To bring out what 's good and true ? 

At night when you're ready to go to bed 
And you think of the day gone by, 
Can you recollect all you've done and said 
"Without a regret or sigh? 

If your ideal is both good and true 
And you're doing the best you can 
Then let me proudly say to you, 
You 're a man, my boy, a man ! 



32 



INTROSPECTION 

'Tis better far to be denounced 
By conscience of the worldly wise, 
Than to be honored by all men 
And be condemned in one's own eyes. 

'Tis better far to live obscure 
Away from pomp and glory's goal, 
Than to be dwelling in their midst 
And pay the price with one's own soul. 



33 



A TWILIGHT VISIT 

Within the church the altar lights soft glow, 
Warmly its red across the marble floor 
Just like a benediction from above 
Falls on those who have come to adore. 

The twilight hour, how close God seems to be, 
A thrill so sweet it seems not born of earth 
Steals o'er my body, how truly then I feel 
That He is all and I but little worth. 

The petty things of which I 've been a part 
Unworthy are of heights I know I might 
Attain by striving; now in shame I bow 
My head and promise Him a better fight. 

Across the aisle I see a figure bent 
And aged from work, moulded from common clay, 
Not minding rags she whispers low her beads ; 
God help me, how those aged lips can pray ! 

I cannot take my eyes from off her face, 
The veil of wrinkles traced so firm and fine. 
The paleness of the brow resigned to fate ; 
Frail body sheltering a soul divine. 

Time passes ; I have watched her for an hour 
In wonder; and the thought comes to my heart 
That saints are not just those so classified. 
She rises — and I to the door do start. 



34 



Reaching there first I hold it wide, 
She pauses, as if unused to courtesy, 
Then seeing that I mean she should go first 
She stops just for a second close by me. 

"May God you bless, my child," she softly said. 
I whispered, "Thank you, ma'am;" our ways apart 
We wended, but no more can I forget 
The benediction brought thus to my heart. 



35 



GOOD FRIDAY 

(Afternoon Service) 

The monarch and the gutter-bom 

In East and West alike do mourn, 

For their God-man hung on a tree, 

Their Christ whose soul took flight at three. 

Rags or emine fail to hide 
Pure hearts and souls that side by side 
Are joined in prayer. God loves to see 
His children gathered 'round His knee. 

An altar boy with cross beside 
The priest doth walk, while others guide 
His footsteps, as the candle's light 
Illumines each pathetic sight. 

Sweet "Stabat Mater" sings the choir, 

Their voices like a smouldering fire 

Foretelling early death. 

"Twelve," chants the priest in whispered breath. 

The bell tolls thrice, all heads are bowed, 
And o'er that hushed and breathless crowd 
Christ 's faltering voice and lips so blue 
Forgiveness asks for me and you. 

Be you a crown or common birth. 
In God 's eyes you are only worth 
The virtues woven in your soul ; 
In life there is no other goal. 



36 



The service over for the day, 

Hastens each mortal on his way 

Still thoughtlessly? God's sweetest grace 

Is stamped on every humble face. 

The monarch and the gutter man 
In East and West are joined, God 's plan 
Of brotherhood has made them one, 
As God Father, Holy Ghost, and Son. 



37 



NATURE WORSHIPS YOU, MARG 
(Dedicated to M. B.) 

Can you hear the first Spring robins, Marg, 
And all nature's wondrous call? 
It was one short year ago you thrilled 
At the balmy breeze and all. 

How you loved to gather violets 
Which were blooming on Indian creek. 
Then you searched for them, Marg dear, 
Now 'tis you the wild flowers seek. 

They are blooming sweetly o'er your head 
As a mother's watchful eyes 
Ever guard her child. They miss you, Marg, 
As does the wind who for you sighs. 

And when flies a bee to one so bright. 
Drinking deep 'neath skies of blue. 
You may know, Marg, he understands, 
Thus his homage pays to you. 

When evening's crickets their lullaby 
Sing till they fall asleep. 
You will not be lonely, for the moon 
His nightly vigil then will keep. 

Oh, you may be lying far apart 

From the pantomime of petty ways. 

You 're not alone. Nature worships you, Marg, 

In a thousand different ways. 

38 



INFANT LIVES 

Infants have no sins to weep for 
Just before they die, 
Their brief lives are like bright rainbows 
Lighting up the summer sky. 

In God's garden of pure lilies, 
Plucks He with the greatest love 
Infant buds, dear to His heart, 
And these He takes above. 

Born of love, recalled from love, each 
Epitaph should say, 
"Weep not, man; the soul lives ever 
Tho' the body but a day." 



39 



MISTS 

Do you know what the mist is made of 
That hangs o'er the mountain side, 
So translucent, with beauty so changing, 
Yet cares,sing with such modest pride ? 

It is made of the tears of good women, 
'Tis the mist of a lieartbroken smile. 
Of sweet courage when life's hope is blasted, 
It's the soul of all women worth while. 



40 



ROADS 

We do not seek a road for a road 
Or for what we may meet on the way, 
But just because it leads to a house 
Where love greets the end of each day. 

A road the fairest that man could make 
Would be but a dreary trail ; 
For, if at the end there were no homes, 
Roads would be of no avail. 



41 



POETS 

Poets, beholders of all great ideas, 
You are the spirit of each flower and brook; 
You visualize all thoughts of mortal man ; 
Straight into nature's very .soul you look. 

Your genius brings our scattered thoughts to light ; 
Before they seemed so immature and weak. 
Somehow you seem much more ourselves than we ; 
You have expressed — all we could do was seek. 



42 



WE EXPECT TOO MUCH 

Did you ever ponder the reason why 
After each burst of joy there is always a sigh' 
The reason that we are never glad 
Without just a little of something sad? 
Why one moment life seems nothing but joy, 
And the next one a useless and broken toy ? 
The answer is this, tho' we don't think it such: 
It's because of this life we expect too much. 



43 



A FRIEND 

A friend is one who tolerates 
One's faults both great and small; 
Who guards one's secrets zealously; 
No harsh words does recall. 

A friend can somehow understand 
Moods sad or very gay ; 
He '11 stick through everything with you 
Because he 's built that way. 

He makes you feel you're still worth while 
When your ambitions smash, 
And builds again your dream of dreams 
Which for a while seemed trash, 

A friend ! A friend is hard to find, 
Tho ' many years we live ; 
But let us not forget that who 
Receiveth, he must give ! 



44 



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